


Don't Dead Open Inside

by Slanguage



Series: Prompts [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute, Fluff, Halloween, M/M, Pre-Slash, Zombie Crawl, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2435234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slanguage/pseuds/Slanguage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean freaking hates Halloween.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Dead Open Inside

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt found [here](http://flightlesscas.tumblr.com/post/98412230365/caswitch-aus-that-need-to-happen-autumn)

Dean freaking hates Halloween.

It’s not only because his dad was always bitter about the holiday, but that might have something to do with it. It’s not even that Sammy kept him from being able to celebrate it in any way other than walking around making sure he doesn’t get hit by a car when they were kids, but Dean has long since gotten over that. Really, he doesn’t know quite how to explain his hatred for it. He just doesn’t understand why a couple of people would point to a date on the calendar that is considered slightly spooky for other cultures and say, yup, that’s when we’re gonna dress up in costumes and beg strangers for candy. It was the strangest mutation of cultural practices that he had ever seen, and he didn’t understand why the western media felt the need to capitalize on it.

(Really, though, Dean partly hated Halloween because he once got so sick after eating so much candy that he almost had to have his stomach pumped.)

This year, however, Charlie was convinced it would be different. She was determined to change his mind with a plethora of new traditions for the holiday, and he was more than willing to humor her if it meant that they would be able to watch some old fashioned monster movies and eat their body weight in pizza and whatever else they could make from the petrified items in Charlie’s fridge. And that was why, at this exact moment, he was exiting the local Gas’n’Sip with a bag filled with pecan pie and two pints of Ben & Jerry’s, and he was definitely ready to get this day moving in the right direction.

He looked up and, as far as the eye could see, were zombies.

They were on the street, staggering around in ripped clothes and discolored skin. One, bloodied, was getting to its knees, having fallen on the sidewalk in front of the gas station. Dean stopped in his tracks, taking a moment to blink and reorient himself, before he turned slowly to the left to head to his car.

A zombie was standing directly in front of him, less than a foot away. Dean let out a shocked shout and stumbled back, managing to catch himself before he fell backwards and broke his skull. He ran a hand over his face as he let out a shaky laugh, embarrassment pooling in his stomach.

“Jesus, man, ever heard of personal space?” Dean demanded, turning the focus onto the zombie instead of his own embarrassment, a tactic he used so often that Sam had made a habit to point it out like the brat he is until Dean noticed its existence, all in hopes that he would stop. The zombie in question just blinked at him, as if surprised, but his blank facial expression had barely changed. He just looked at Dean for a moment, looking him up and down like he recognized him and was trying to figure out from where, before his eyes wandered back up to Dean’s face.

Dean hadn’t ever considered himself a fan of one eye color over the other, though he did have a tendency to date those with darker eyes for the long term, although correlation was not causation and all that. But the zombie guy in front of him, he had blue eyes, and they stood out around his stock of black hair sticking up in random directions and the fake blood splattered across his face. Those eyes blinked at Dean one more time before the zombie’s mouth turned up into the start of a smile.

“My apologies,” he told Dean, and Dean practically felt like the air had been knocked out of his chest. Holy shit. What a voice.

“No problem, man. Just scared the shit out of me,” Dean continued to casually tease, shooting him a smirk. The zombie just continued to stare at him like he was solving a difficult mathematics equation in his mind. “You guys on a crawl or something?”

“Yes,” he said, as if remembering, and glanced around at the other passing zombies. “My little sister coerced me into going with her. Our parents told her she could not go until she was eighteen unless I agreed. She blackmailed me.”

Dean couldn’t help it—he laughed. “I have a little brother that would have done the same.”

Finally, the zombie smiled, like he was relieved someone else on this planet understood the eternal struggle of having a sibling. “I do not understand her fascination with it, but I am here all the same.”

“Not to mention scaring the shit out of random unsuspecting citizens in the process,” Dean pointed out, and then grinned when the zombie looked thoroughly chastised. “Hey, no worries, man.”

“I thought I recognized you,” the zombie admitted, squinting his eyes like he still wasn’t sure. “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Dean, would it?”

Now it was Dean’s turn to blink, surprised. “It is, actually.”

The zombie nodded like ah, yes, of course. “We have a mutual friend named Charlie Bradbury. She tried to talk me into crashing your night in tonight so that she could set us up for a date.”

Say what now.

“Charlie’s a menace,” Dean said out loud, his brain for once knowing how to control his mouth, but his eyes were raking over the zombie, checking him out a little more closely. Dean had to admit that, despite Charlie’s necessity to put herself in situations where she didn’t always belong, she had great taste despite not even being interested in the male side of life. Dean assumed that, underneath of the makeup and ripped layers of clothing, the zombie was actually built pretty great. He held himself straight, almost in a military stance, and Dean would bet his criminology degree that he had spent his childhood in ROTC just like Dean had.

Dean couldn’t deny that Charlie had paid a lot of accidental attention to what Dean’s type is, and she had managed to deliver exceptionally well.

“I should probably go,” the zombie admitted awkwardly.

Dean realized he’d been staring. He felt his face burning as he stumbled over his speech trying to cover for his second embarrassment in the span of five minutes. Charlie was going to die of laughter when he told her about all of this. If he ever did.

“Are you going to stop by?” Dean asked finally, his face still burning. The zombie’s eyes widened even as Dean clarified, slowly losing confidence, “To Charlie’s, I mean. You should come by. It’ll be fun.”

The zombie hesitated for a moment. And then he nodded.

“Yes,” he said, and something about it sounded like relief. “I will definitely have to.”

Dean couldn’t help but to smile. “What’s your name?”

“Castiel.”

“Alright,” Dean said, probably looking like an idiot he was smiling so much, but he’d already acted like quite the idiot around Castiel and he seemed to be sticking around, so he might as well show his true colors while he’s at it. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Okay,” Castiel said, practically sounding dazed as he took one step backwards. “Goodbye, Dean.”

“Later, Cas,” Dean replied, and he watched Castiel walk back to the crowd of zombies—or, rather, to one in particular, who was a girl about sixteen with hair as black and eyes as blue as Cas’s, who was standing by the exit to the gas station with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrows raised, smirking. Dean ducked his head and walked to his car, the jingling of his keys not even loud enough to block out the female laughter that suddenly started from where Castiel and his sister were standing.

“Are you _blushing_ , Cyborg?” she ragged on him, giggling even as he reached out and started to drag her down the street, to the flow of the zombies. “Oh my god, did you get his number at least?”

“Quiet, Hael,” Castiel told her, but it sounded like he was smiling.

Dean smiled himself as he slid into the cab of his car and started the engine, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. He opened a new message to Charlie and ignored the one she sent asking where he was, pausing for a second to feel the sped-up beating of his heart before he typed out _You are in SO much trouble_ , and sent it.

He would have to thank her for this later, of course. But, for now, Dean just kept smiling and pulled onto the street, pretending like he wasn’t wondering how long it would be until he saw Castiel again, and figured that maybe Halloween wasn’t all that bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr: shortenedlanguage.tumblr.com
> 
> x Slang


End file.
